


It's All a Little Fox Mulder, isn't It?

by timeless_alice



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Long-Distance Friendship, M/M, Pre-Relationship, UFO Hunter AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:55:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25115752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timeless_alice/pseuds/timeless_alice
Summary: When Bill was a child, Georgie went missing for a few days before reappearing none the worse for wear. Bill says he was abducted by aliens. Not that anyone believes him, for obvious reasons. So he's a little hesitant to bring it up to Mike, even knowing that he believes this kind of thing already.An AU involving aliens and conspiracy
Relationships: Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	It's All a Little Fox Mulder, isn't It?

**Author's Note:**

> some au info at the bottom

It was the fourth or fifth time that Mike and Bill spoke to each other in any way that wasn't from behind their monitors. It was only over the phone, but it was more than they typically had. Bill liked Mike's voice, its low and gentle cadence and the way laughter filled his words when he was amused; there was a faint sense of envy that prickled along his skin to settle in his bones whenever they spoke. But he smothered it, unwilling to let any inkling of resentment affect his already faulty words.

Bill lay on the living room couch, head tilted back to stare at the apartment ceiling with his cellphone against his ear. It was near to midnight, but he wasn't tired. Mike was telling him - and he could imagine how animated he was, on the other side of the line, and not for the first time he imagined what it would be like to see him in person - about some theories he found about a monster living deep under Maine. An urban legend, he said, but there were traces of evidence to suggest some truth to it. He gave no reply, content to just listen to Mike speak as his thoughts attempted to circle around to his own past.

But then, Mike said, "You're being awfully quiet, Bill."

Bill blinked, a hand moving to rest between the back of his head and the couch cushion. "Sorry," he said. He began to speak, but emotions and churning thoughts gummed up his voice so the words stuck in his throat. He let out a low huff, and cleared his throat in an attempt to "reset" things. "I like listening to you talk."

Shame washed through him, embarrassment over his inability to speak as clearly as he'd wish. Always stumbling, always taking too long to say anything, and no amount of speech therapy had been able to help. Fingers curled through his hair, tight and just enough to tug, knuckles digging painfully into the worn cushion, before he relaxed again.

"Come on," Mike said, and there was concern there that some part of Bill felt he didn't deserve. "What's on your mind?"

Bill sat up, planting one foot on the ground while tapping the other against the old floorboards. He worried at his lip, teeth catching at a loose bit of skin to pull at. He wondered for a moment if he should say anything, say what had been circling around his mind all day to gnaw away at him as it had his whole life. It was just that there were times when it was more corrosive than others.

His mouth moved before his brain would catch up and tell him to stop. "I've been thinking about...something that happened when I was a kid." 

It was strange in its way, that he was so nervous to speak. Mike was a believer, that was something he had known long before the concept of friendship was even in the playing cards, but after a lifetime of... Well, being called a liar, being told time and again that what he'd seen hadn't been real, just the product of a young mind trying to make sense of something that had happened that was beyond his control (even though he knew that his parents blamed him for it, with their ire sometimes being more obvious than other times). He wasn't sure Mike would believe him.

But there was some stupid part of him that was warm with the idea of being with him ached for him to speak and bare his soul.

"What happened?" The concern had only thickened. That earlier enthusiasm and excitement over the unknown having evaporated into the air.

"God, I don't know if you'll believe me." The words took too long to get out, catching in his throat as if they would never leave. But Mike didn't interrupt him, just waited for him to finish. Embarrassment crawled up his neck , burning skin along the way.

"Try me," Mike said, and Bill could hear the curiosity creeping in. And he thought that maybe there was a silent 'have you met me?' tacked on that almost made him smile; did in fact, make the corners of his lips quirk up for a moment.

"I think my brother - Georgie, remember? we've talked a little about him - was abducted when we were little." And then the story spilled out, a dam in his mind having broken. "We were playing in the woods by our house...Not supposed to, honestly, but he wanted to and I had to keep an eye on him." A deep breath in, an exhale. "And I honestly don't remember much, it was...years ago. But I remember Georgie had gone off ahead to explore a little, and was just out of my sight for maybe a minute or two. Not even. And I remember a weird rumbling sound? Like a plane that was flying too low, you know? I went to find Georgie because it made me feel anxious. He even called my name, I must have been near him. Just out of sight." And he remembered the sensation. Like all his hair stood on end and skin came alive with goosebumps. The air around him electrified. He told that to Mike, trying to paint it as best he could without sounding like he was making it all up.But then...there was a flash of light. And he was gone."

He swallowed, the memory of the events playing in his mind’s eye without pause. The scathing glances from his parents and the search parties and all the people who wanted to talk to him to piece together what could have happened and their own pitying looks. "We searched for days. My parents were furious. And then, out of nowhere, he reappeared. He didn't remember anything, but he was safe and unharmed and just...walked out of those woods and showed up at our door." He shrugged though Mike couldn't see it. "Everyone said him not remembering was a trauma thing, but I don't know. It felt too...weird. And I know what I heard. 

There was a moment of silence, with no reply from Mike. At first it could have been written off as him waiting for Bill to say more, but the more it dragged on the more that eternal uncertainty crept into Bill's bones. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath only to let it out in a low huff of a sigh. He really ought to stop talking about it, no one ever believed him. Not even Mike.

"Is that why you're so involved in...all this?" Mike finally said, and there wasn't a note of disbelief in his voice. Only that thoughtful note that usually preluded excited theorizing.

"Honestly, yeah."

The smile was audible over the phone. "That's very Fox Mulder of you."

Bill thought for a moment, before he replied, "That's what Richie tells me. Too bad no one believed Mulder, either." Despite his efforts to sound a little light hearted, he knew that there was a hint of defeat to the words.

"Well lucky for you, I do believe you."

Bill could have laughed in his relief, and he hadn't realized how heavy the weight on his shoulders was until Mike had said that. No one believed him, even Richie had his limits with how much he was willing to indulge Bill's wilder beliefs. And there was some lingering knowledge, left behind from that lifetime of his, that clung to the idea that perhaps one day the other shoe would drop and Mike would draw his own line in the sand, but the weight pressing down on him lessened. It was almost like he was breathing fully and properly for the first time since he was a child, and that was a strange thing to think on.

"Thanks," was all he managed to say, strangled as it was and stuttering as he always was.

"No problem." Bill wished he was able to see the smile he could hear. Maybe one day. "By the way, during that story? I don't think you stuttered a single time."

Bill blinked, swinging his legs over the edge of the couch so he was sitting upright. He rubbed at his chin, playing the story over in his head as he had just told it. A small quirked on his lips, the smallest of upticks at the corners. "I guess I didn't.”

**Author's Note:**

> ok so this is part of an au my friend bruni and i have tossed around a few times
> 
> bill and richie are roommates and run a podcast about UFO stuff. bill and mike met on an internet forum and bonded (richie doesn't believe he's real and if he is real he's probably Weird)
> 
> anyway [here's my carrd](https://timelessalice.carrd.com) and my IT twitter is cclowntownusa


End file.
